Monday, June 08, 2009

When we met, just inside the doors to the church, I remember him looking at me. Really looking at me, it seemed. I immediately convinced myself that I was imagining things. Reminded myself that I’d have the pleasure of meeting his charming, bubbly, pretty girlfriend on Saturday night. Left it at that.

He sat across from me at the rehearsal dinner. I was on fire that night. I was surrounded by groomsmen – throwing funny stories and good natured bantering and decent conversation left and right. Still myself – but the myself that I show to my friends and my family, not to people I’ve known for a few hours. For no good reason, really. Just more comfortable in my skin.

Didn’t see him again until Saturday afternoon. He was outside the church when we arrived in the limo. Again with those eyes. That look. I brushed it aside. My silly, wishful imagination.

He sat next to me on the limo as we travelled from the church, around town for pictures and to the reception. Some of the bridal party switched around seats as we hopped in and out of the limo. I stayed put. He stayed put.

Coincidence. Lucky coincidence, I was sure.

At some point after dinner, the groomsman who I walked with asked me if I had my eye on anyone. “Oh, I have my eye on everyone,” I laughed. I think we left it at that.

Later, he asked me again. “You found anyone you’re going after?” I can’t recall how I answered – just that I avoided the subject. “One of the groomsmen has a thing for you.” He did not elaborate.

There were only two unmarried groomsmen. And I hadn’t had much interaction with the other. So there you go.

I’m still not sure I believed it. Then or now.

Towards the end of the night, we finally had a chance to dance together. He kept me close. I could feel his breath on my shoulder. The bride shot me an absolutely hilarious, shocked glance. “Oh!” she mouthed. If she had asked me about it, I would’ve told her it was nothing. But there was this millisecond where he pressed his forehead against mine – and it didn’t feel like nothing.

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comments:

Get that boy's number, woman! (I had to get K's number after the best man told me it was SO obvious K and I were into each other. Since K's game was a little off that weekend, I got his number from the best man.) :)

Hi. I'm A.

Born, raised, educated in the Midwest, I am such a Midwesterner. So Midwestern, if you will.

I am: a blogger of 8+ years, forever searching for my next athletic challenge, hopelessly overscheduled and always, always eating.

I started So Midwestern right after I graduated from college, hoping to chronicle my transition to adulthood. Graduate school, four half marathons, two new nephews, three apartments, a trip to Africa, a sprinkle of heartbreak, dozens of unfinished knitting projects, four turns as a bridesmaid, 8,913 job applications and two full-time positions later: I’m fairly convinced that the day when I feel like a legitimate, full-fledged grownup will never come. So I’ll just keep on blogging.

I write about a little bit of everything and a lot of nothing. Toss my ramblings with a few pictures, a touch of swearing and an endless appreciation for the beauty that is David Beckham and you have So Midwestern. Welcome.